


Mission Objective

by Ailette



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6552199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colonel Hux of the First Order is sent on a mission to find out what kind of monster was able to defeat a whole squadron of expertly trained Stormtroopers without breaking a sweat and assess whether or not it can be of use to the Order in the future. Naturally, the monster is far more human than he expected it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time in ages I'm writing and posting fic again. All six chapters of this are already written, so this fic will not be abandoned half-way.

Hux has read the report about a hundred times by now, but, sitting in front of the small window facing the shop front across the street, he starts going over it again. Keeping watch of something he has kept watch of for weeks now is disgustingly simple and he has gotten to the point where he has just about memorized the routine of every single customer shopping there. There are not a lot of people in this backwater town, on this backwater planet, just between what constitutes the Outer Rim and the Unknown Regions.

With a sigh, he lets his eyes sweep up and down the street once more before he skims over the report. It doesn’t read like one of Phasma’s usual reports, but then that could be due to the fact that she had to dictate it, not having her right arm in working condition after the attack. To be honest, very little about the incident could be described as usual.

Phasma and her squadron of Stormtroopers had come to this planet on a reconnaissance mission, following up a rumor of heightened Resistance interest in this place. The first few reports had sounded all but bored (and Hux can understand that so well now), before they had started exploring further and further outside of town.

Reading it over, there was no warning of any kind before they were attacked. And no matter how often Hux reads it, he finds himself sneering down at the text, not willing to belief the story of the monster bursting from the woods and into the middle of their group, wielding pure fire in his hands according to one trooper, controlling the wind and the elements themselves to a few others. It’s ridiculous. The reports directly contradict each other in several ways when it comes to the details; making the attacker out to be at least three meters tall and clad in a black mask while someone else reported the monster being able to fly and have talons for hands and a snout full of sharp teeth. His personal favorite is the trooper who lost an arm and insists it was actually shot off and not cut off, how else to explain the way the wound had instantly cauterized.

Hux drops his datapad back down to the little table he has dragged towards the window and rubs at his temple. In the end, there is barely any useful information in any of the reports and the entire squadron was beaten, some of them killed, before they beat a retreat back to their ship and eventually the Finalizer where word of their spectacular defeat started spreading quickly, reaching the ears of their General and hardening the suspicion that there was some kind of Resistance weapon being held on this planet.

In Hux’s opinion the next logical step was to send someone to find out more about it, gather enough information to find out if the Resistance had some sort of feral monster training camp down here or if it was just the one creature and then decide whether to try and turn it and make it useful for the First Order or get rid of it.

Looking back now, he’s not sure anymore it was a good idea to actually share this view. If he hadn’t, it would have been harder for the General to send _him_. He’s not stupid, he knows exactly that this is only the General’s latest ploy to at the very least make his life more difficult or, best possible outcome for him, have him get killed during the mission and be rid of him completely. It’s not a secret that Hux has been ascending the ranks within the First Order more quickly than many of the older generation are comfortable with, but they keep underestimating Hux as some kind of crook who continuously succeeds on nothing but luck.

What really made him advance were his quick and sharp mind and the ability to find advantages even in such ridiculous circumstances as his current one. Because the General banked on his failure, one way or another, and Hux _doesn’t_ fail. He would get this weapon for the Order and if it was indeed as powerful as the reports made it sound, it might just be his way into the Supreme Leader’s graces.

Now if only the stupid thing would finally reveal itself.

Hux has been stuck on this planet for weeks, landing under the guise of being a scientist doing research on the flora and fauna in the area, allowing him to go around asking questions about attacks of any kind or oddities happening in the area. It didn’t take long to find out about the local myth of the monster living somewhere in the woods (in the general direction where Phasma’s troop had been attacked, too). Only, the locals don’t seem too scared of it.

“Sure, it comes into town sometimes to trade for food and equipment. Can’t be all bad, never causes much trouble when it’s in town,” the old man from the tavern two streets over had claimed and most people agreed with him. “Just leave it alone.”

What no one could agree on was the nature of the weapon. Most assumed it was Nagai or Frenk, but no one could say for sure as it came into town obscured by layers upon layers of cloth and cloaks, wearing a mask that obscured its face.

The only truly useful thing Hux found out was where exactly the monster went to trade and he had taken a room in direct view of it, allowing him to observe unseen and unbothered from the window, waiting for his prey to show up.

And waiting is all he has done for the last two weeks now.

He’s been waiting so long that he doesn’t even register the towering figure wrapped in layers of dark robes park its speeder bike across the street and walk into the shop. It’s only when the all too familiar jingle of the bell on the shop’s door sounds that Hux’s eyes snap up and focus, barely catching the swirl of black as the man vanishes inside.

But is it a man?

Hux straightens in his seat, his back protesting after hours in the same position. He can see part of the counter inside the shop, but the figure is nothing more than two hands pulling various little gadgets out of a ratty looking bag. The hands are gloved, that much he can tell, but the rest is difficult. It could be humanoid, but there’s too many species out there resembling humans until you saw their face (or faces) or other parts of their body. He isn’t going to jump to conclusions that might make him underestimate the thing later on.

There is no guarantee that this is the creature he is looking for, but in the broadest of senses, the description matches what the troopers agreed on and, more importantly, what Phasma had described. He is most willing to believe her account, crediting her ability to keep a cool head even in the middle of blood and chaos. There’s also the fact that he already knows the face and stature of every single villager and this sure as hell isn’t one of them.

Making sure that the transaction is still ongoing, he hurriedly gets up to grab for his backpack (always packed and ready for precisely this situation) and his coat, throwing another look across the street and now really taking in the speeder bike. It looks modified; nothing he’s really seen around before, but then in this god forsaken part of the galaxy, most things are. He can’t gauge if his own will be able to stay behind the old thing when he starts pursuit, but there’s no time to go looking for another form of transportation.

Negotiations seem to be over as the shop keeper starts stuffing food and other supplies into the creature’s bag from what seems to be as far from the counter as he can get and it turns, walking back outside. Hux has a short moment to stare at the creature from the front, but its face (there does seem to only be one) is hidden by what looks like a simple makeshift mask in black and silver made of metal. Instead of getting straight back onto its speeder bike, the creature seems to freeze, head turning every which way as if – as if it’s looking for someone, maybe sniffing the air. Hux drops to the floor without a thought, having stopped breathing before he even realized it. There is something about the way the creature moves – choppy big movements making it seem enormous, dangerous. There is no doubt left in Hux’s mind that this is the monster he is looking for.

At the sound of a small engine roaring to life, Hux takes off down the stairs, almost tripping when someone else is coming up at the same time. He mutters something that could be either insult or apology and bursts out the door, making sure with one quick glance that the creature is speeding in the direction of the forest, before he gets on his own speeder bike and curses when it takes a moment to ignite.

His prey is already quickly moving out of sight and he realizes that he severely misjudged the speeder bike’s acceleration. He doesn’t like speeder bikes in general – the blasted things are too fast, too likely to get you killed at the tiniest mistake no matter if you were the one making it or someone on the same road as you – but having to accelerate from practically zero to breakneck speed in a matter of seconds just to keep up makes his knuckles go white with how convulsively he is clasping the handles.

To make matters worse, his prey has moved off the already less than high quality road and into the forest, making matters both worse and better for Hux as he follows after with clenched teeth. Beside the risk of driving straight into one of the thick trees if he lets his attention slip for even a second, he is now both somewhat hidden from view and can pursue more easily while he has more and more trouble catching glimpses of the black figure getting farther and farther away from him.

There’s only one choice he has here: either throw caution to the wind and have a shot at succeeding in his mission or playing it safe and in the process making sure he will either be stuck on this planet for several more weeks at least or immediately get demoted. His teeth gnash down harder in anger at himself. There _is_ no choice to make.

He urges his speeder bike on to go faster, ignoring the red blinking warning lights starting to go off on the small screen as he starts whipping through the trees at more than insane speed. If it weren’t for the integrated semi-autopilot, he’d be dead already, smeared remains across a thick bark of wood. The thought is barely more than fleeting, his concentration pinpointed to the small black figure in the distance slowly, so slowly, growing bigger again.

The advantage of a brand new model is that even at this tempo his speeder bike is all but noiseless, the direct opposite of the loud chattering thing he’s pursuing. As long as he’s vigilant and doesn’t miss when the creature vanishes somewhere, he will be able to follow it to its lair. Once he knows its exact whereabouts he can return to the village and send a status update back to the Order, possibly requesting back-up before he goes to confront the creature. Negotiations are well and good, but he will feel better about them when he has more than the two blasters on his own person available to defend his life if necessary. The Finalizer isn’t too far from the planet; a platoon can probably get here within two days.

It’s impossible to tell how long he spends chasing the monster through the woods, the terrain barely changing and his entire focus on the creature in front of him while not killing himself through sheer clumsiness. There is a moment when he thinks that the creature in front of him might be slowing down, its head turning ever so slightly, but then nothing changes for what has to be minutes and he chalks it up to his imagination. It’s impossible to look backwards at this speed and he isn’t making a sound, no reason for the creature to be suspi-

It happens so fast, it doesn’t make sense to him for the first few seconds. There’s a choking sound and his eyes whip down to his console, brows not even able to furrow before he’s suddenly thrown sideways, off his speeder bike and crashing, tumbling through what, he can’t tell. It must be stones and the ground and at least a few tree barks but when his body finally comes to a halt it’s with a sickening crack against something hard and all at once the pain hits him everywhere at once, for one, blindingly white-hot moment of agony and he hears a scream that might be his, might be something he let lose before already without noticing.

The only thought whirring through his mind before it all stops is, _failure_.

*

The first time he regains consciousness, he isn’t sure whether his eyes are even open. It’s pitch black all around him and only when he forces himself to blink repeatedly do some vague contours swim into focus. _Trees_ , he thinks, _goddamn trees_ , before his leg twitches and his vision whites out again, taking his thoughts with it.

The second time his eyes open, he’s not entirely sure that it actually is only the second time. There’s pain everywhere, sparking up his back and his neck to a pulsing head, but he doesn’t even dare to try and move his legs. It’s still dark, though he imagines that it is getting more grey than black now, maybe signaling the sunrise. It’s just light enough to make him aware that he didn’t just go crashing through the trees; he crashed down a slope littered with either very solid seeming bushes or big rocks. He can’t tell for sure and when he tries to concentrate harder to look for his speeder bike, he can feel the edges of his vision going black again. He doesn’t fight it.

His first proper thought the third time is a mild and disdainful wonder that he hasn’t been eaten yet by whatever populates this forest during the night. He had looked up the local wildlife and residents before coming here of course, had to make sure Phasma and her troops hadn’t just been attacked by an Abyssin on the run, and he knows that there are enough animals crawling these woods that he should count himself lucky to still be alive.

But thinking of anything as lucky in his current situation is hard. He can no longer even pinpoint where the pain comes from, his entire body feeling like one big pulsing and festering wound. He is dimly aware that he’s sweating despite the cool air inside the forest. It has to be midday at least and it’s easier to look around now, easier to spot the sorry looking heap of metal that was once his speeder bike and now is all but wrapped around a tree not too far from him. Miraculously, it doesn’t seem to have exploded.

He has to get over there and try to contact someone, get out of here and to some kind of medical care (though he remembers all too well that the next medcenter on this planet is in the capital – hundreds of kilometers from here) – if he doesn’t, he’s going to rot here. He isn’t willing to give his general the satisfaction. Walking isn’t an option so he starts to pull himself forward with only the use of his arms and hands, ignoring the stinging pain that shoots up there as he edges forward infinitely slowly.

He loses count of how many times he blacks out and wakes up again during his advance, less and less aware of his surroundings with every time he forces his eyes to open; not sure anymore if the sun has set again or he is losing his sight now, too.

It was useless anyway, the speeder bike completely dead when he finally reaches it, not even so much as giving off a single spark when he tries to hit everything he can, cutting open his left hand in an uncoordinated try to get at the mechanics inside.

This is worse than simple failure. This is complete helplessness and he hates everything about it.

He stays conscious now, staring at the little bit of sky he can make out through the tops of the trees. The pain gets unbearable at times and almost appears to vanish at others when he seems to almost be floating instead of lying on a cold and hard forest ground, his leg bend at an angle he can barely stand to glance at. The stench of blood seems to grow stronger around him, but maybe he is only imagining that.

The only thing that’s real are the stars sluggishly vanishing into the light as the sun comes up again and he’s dimly aware that he has been lying here for two full days now, at least. How much longer will it take for him to die?

Anger wells up in him at the thought of such permanent defeat, of dying before reaching any of his real goals. He isn’t done yet. His hands clench into fists as he screams into the cold and silent morning air around him, pure rage driving him into an upright position, almost sitting and ignoring all the signals his body sends him of weakness and pain.

He isn’t going to die here. He is going to make his way back to civilization and come back to hunt this godforsaken creature down, make it regret ever having been born for what it has inflicted on Hux, for even making him consider giving up; forget about negotiating.

With another agonized scream he pushes himself up onto the leg that at least looks like it could still support him, pulling himself up on first the carcass of the speeder bike and then the damaged tree bark, absurdly satisfied that the tree would likely not survive the encounter.

He turns slowly, still holding on, letting his eyes narrow as they search for the easiest path back up the slope. There are older trees at the left side, thick roots forming something he can use as a mixture of stairs and railing to get himself up. Gritting his teeth, he lets go of his support and drags himself forward one step, two steps, almost three before he registers something moving in the corner of his eye. He has no chance to focus on it, all his power leaving him in one single, surprisingly painless moment as he drops back to the ground, unaware that this time, an invisible Force catches him before he can smash his skull open on the rocks beneath him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hux is getting very tired of slipping in and out of consciousness only to be in varied states of confusion and pain, feeling like he is being jostled around and almost drowned, no longer even seeing the forest he’s supposed to be dying a shameful and dishonorable death in.

Instead, a light brown stone ceiling eventually swims into focus and he glares at it, wondering if he’s hallucinating on top of everything else now. Because clearly, he’s not dead. He’s lying on something soft and comfortable, but the pain is still very much present. He likes to imagine that, at least, would end if he eventually gave up and died.

Not that he plans to.

There’s a soft rustling sound to his left and Hux is in the process of turning his head to look what his mind is conjuring up now – only to be confronted with the face of a monster, too large pitch black eyes and a strangely ribbed snout almost touching his own face. He yelps and tries to scramble away in a moment of blind panic, jarring his injured leg and all but collapsing against the cold stone wall behind him, gasping in unnecessarily huge lungfuls of air as it hits him that this is not a hallucination, this is a real house he’s in, a real bed he’s on, a real animal there to devour him.

Only it’s pulling back at Hux’s shout as if burned, hand outstretched but edging away from the bed and Hux finally realizes that it’s not an actual face that scared him. It’s a mask, the metal glinting slightly in the dim light that hits it. And he’s seen it before, of course, if only from afar. This is the creature he was pursuing; the monster that killed a number of Stormtroopers and incapacitated the rest. The realization is not very calming at all and Hux remains frozen where he lies, crumbled in a heap between pillow and wall, staring at the creature.

It doesn’t move either, its face hidden but Hux is sure he’s being stared at in return, maybe being taken in and mustered as carefully as he is doing right now. Cataloguing what he sees, what’s different from when he first saw it, what he didn’t see at all from a street away.

It does have a human like form, but it’s large and imposing to say the least, every inch of skin hidden beneath layers of mismatched shawls and robes in varying shades of brown and gray and black, it could be claws hidden beneath those rough gloves just as easily as hands.

Suddenly, he remembers the list of injuries sustained by Phasma’s squadron in unnerving clarity; every broken bone and open wound and lost limb passing across his mind’s eye. It doesn’t matter what this thing is, it left him for dead in the forest for two days before coming back to finish him off or do Lord knows what with him. He isn’t going to let it. Familiar resolve and anger bubble up inside of him, calming his nerves in an odd way before he takes in his own state carefully, without moving his eyes from his captor.

His coat is gone and with it the holster for his regular blaster, but he still seems to be wearing his right. The smirk almost shows on his face, but he suppresses it in time. Good.

Without hesitating another second, he reaches down to grab the smaller blaster hidden in his boot, his fingers closing around it and he pulls, whipping it out and shooting almost without aiming – this close, there luckily is no need to.

The shot freezes in midair between him and the creature.

It defies everything Hux knows and it costs him a valuable moment where he is too stunned to shoot again, to empty the damn weapon until one of the shots finally hits his opponent. Instead, the creature is suddenly up and on him, ripping the weapon from his trembling fingers. He tries to fight himself free without it, kicking with his uninjured leg, hitting and scratching and yelling even as it feels like attacking a duracrete wall. Another swift movement and suddenly the creature is pressing down on his injured leg with its entire weight, making Hux scream out against his will as it grunts,

“Enough!”

The shock of hearing the monster speak barely registers as he convulses in pain, grabbing uselessly at the hand inflicting it so effortlessly. He doesn’t beg to be let go, but he’s close.

When the creature finally retreats with a huff, Hux slumps into the bedding, twitching and biting his lower lip to keep from whimpering, all his power having apparently left his body. Still, when he catches movement from the corner of his eye again he snaps his glare up to the creature, hating it with every fiber of his being.

Something that sounds like a distorted sigh of frustration and the creature raises its hand in a gesture of impatience towards him. Hux expects more pain, but instead has his consciousness ripped from him for the second time that day.

*

When he wakes up this time, it’s the first time that it doesn’t feel like being dunked into ice cold water and then dumped onto glowing coals, but instead simply like that – waking up. As if he has only been sleeping in this bed, no care in the world to turn his dreams unpleasant. It’s a disorienting feeling after all the pain and panic and chaos he remembers immediately from before his forced time-out.

Because after experiencing it twice, he knows that it’s that monster that knocked him out, not just another wave of exhaustion and agony. He doesn’t know how, not yet, but he’s sure of it. He jumps when a curtain on his left moves and the monster steps through, but instantly forces his body to relax again. He will not show fear again in front of this thing, no matter what it has planned for him next.

It’s with mild surprise, then, that he stares at the cup of water thrust in his face. Dubiously, he looks back from it to the still masked monster, daring to raise his eyebrow in question, only to have the cup shoved forward to almost collide with his chin. Forcing a scowl onto his features, he eventually takes it, careful not to touch the creature’s gloved hand and ignoring the tremor in his arm.

“I would have thought something like you would prefer a more direct method of killing than poison,” he says with all the disdain he can muster, even if the words make little sense and the hoarse sound of his own voice almost makes him wince. If there is anything but water in the cup, it won’t be there to kill him.

The clenching of fists is all the reaction he gets before the creature turns and leaves again, curtain billowing dramatically behind it.

Thoughtfully, carefully, Hux takes a first sip of the water. When he doesn’t taste anything out of the ordinary, he starts taking bigger gulps, emptying it quickly and with a relieved exhale. Automatically looking around for a place to put the empty cup, his eyes come to rest on an empty jug on what has to be the night stand, made of the same material as the cup in his hand.

Frowning, he first shoots another look to the curtain before reaching out and peeking into the jug. There are a few droplets of water still in there and it makes the cogs in his head turn slowly, going over this little mystery. Considering he’d been laying half-dead in the forest for two days, he doesn’t feel too dehydrated. There are also the hazy impressions of someone manhandling him in his unconscious state, the sensation of something wet being poured slowly into his mouth.

With the conclusion obvious, he puts the jug away again and starts taking proper inventory of his body. Aside from the smell of something he inherently associates with medical in the air, there are adhesive bandages on his forearms and torso and dressing material is visible in some places. Most notably, when he pulls off the thin blanket covering his lower body, his bad leg is splinted and bandaged neatly; only the end of the bandage sort of flapping about loosely like the one who put it there  grew frustrated with it before finishing properly. He absently notices that his formerly remaining boot is now gone, leaving him in only the remains of his cut-off civilian pants. There’s another bandage wrapped around his head when he carefully feels around, wincing when he touches a spot just above his right ear.

The monster had patched him up.

_Huh_ , he thinks, followed by, _what does it want from me_?

He asks exactly that when it eventually slinks back into the room, obviously being caught off-guard by the question, remaining still as it watches Hux in that disturbing faceless way as he lays half-propped up on the bed, glaring at him.

“I know you can talk,” Hux adds for good measure, not in the mood to be ignored and almost forgetting that he’s supposed to be afraid. This situation is so far from any logic, it makes him angry. Angrier than he already is about being just about helpless and stuck here for the moment, his head pounding with a pain that is echoed tenfold throughout his body. Never mind that he has no idea how much time has passed since the original chase, since clearly he’d been attended to in between.

The monster barely even inclines its head before starting to move about the room, apparently looking for something in the small chamber’s only cupboard. The nonchalant ignorance only serves to irritate Hux more and he makes a grab for the jug, throwing it at the monster’s head with what he knows to be both bad aim and bad judgement.

This creature had killed and maimed Phasma’s well-trained soldiers with ease, had already demonstrated how easily it could subdue Hux in his current state. And yet it doesn’t matter when he can’t even find out why the hell he is being kept alive.

For a split second, he thinks he sees the jug slow down in midair and is reminded forcefully of that hovering blaster shot from before, but then it crashes into the wall with a loud clang, bursting to pieces. The monster had easily ducked out of its way, focused on fishing a flimsi scroll from beneath a small mountain of them.

“Answer me, damn you!”

He freezes when the monster whips back around, its eery focus now back on Hux, but he stiffens his spine and forbids himself from visibly flinching, wills all emotion from his face.

The monster only silently continues staring at him, apparently not going to attack him just yet, whatever the reason for keeping him alive still valid. Maybe he has overestimated its capability of speech. Maybe it can only form simple, short sentences or possibly even knows merely a handful of words of Basic to hurl around.

There’s an odd noise that Hux can’t identify, either the mask or the creature’s facial composition making the sound almost unrecognizable; closest maybe to a snort.

“Rest.”

For a moment, Hux feels both startled and oddly verified, then the monster decides to throw a wrench into the little wheel of logic he has managed to reassure himself with by uttering on its way out, “Otherwise, it won’t matter why you’re still alive for much longer.”

*

It takes two days before Hux can finally sit up and handle minimal movement again without every part of his body protesting and his head feeling like it’s going to explode. It takes another two before his efforts at tempting words out of the monster are met with anything other than annoyed grunts and irritable threats. Threats that he has come to realize are all but empty.

It would be a lie to say he is no longer scared of the monster at all, but it’s impossible to miss that no matter what it promises to do if Hux doesn’t shut up or stop moving around, it usually doesn’t follow up on any of them.

There are no qualms about using brute force to keep Hux away from anything he could use as a weapon (as he had learnt when trying to attack it with his cutlery), but otherwise it’s… being almost careful with him. There is no unnecessary pain when it checks his wounds (most of which seem to be contusions and gashes, only the head wound and especially his broken leg making him useless), it brings over food and water regularly enough that Hux never goes hungry and from what he can tell it is even homemade. Which is another weird thought. It doesn’t even disturb Hux much, usually only coming in to sort through the contents of its cupboard when it doesn’t have business with Hux directly.

This weirdly mundane routine also means that Hux is bored out of his mind, however. He’s never dealt well with boredom and considering the most movement he is allowed in his state is the very short trip to the adjacent refresher…. Well. What else is he supposed to do but try to pester the monster for information he might be able to use later? His only alternative is sleep and while he gives in to it easily once he recognizes that he’s in no imminent danger of being murdered while unconscious, recognizing his body’s need for rest to heal as quickly as possible, there’s a limit on how many hours he can sleep away.

He’s fairly certain that the monster leaves the house sometimes, but hasn’t exactly been able to figure out how far it goes or even what it does. All he knows is that sometimes, it gets very quiet. No sounds of someone rustling around, leafing through Lord only knows what in the next room, not a hint that anyone else is close-by.

It’s during one of those silences that Hux musters the strength to heave himself out of bed and over to the curtain, hesitating and listening only briefly before he carefully pushes it aside to take first a quick glance and then a longer look around. Just like the bedroom he’s been condemned to, this room seems almost disgustingly normal. There’s a small kitchenette on the one side, a number of shelves and an ancient looking sofa in front of what looks like a table made out of metal scraps on the other. It’s also somewhat smaller than he expected, only one other opening behind a curtain not far from the sofa and a single, proper wooden door across the room from him. That has to be the way out.

He hesitates only for a moment, judging how far he can get on his injured leg without something to cling onto and remembering all too well how far into the forest he had already followed the monster before he’d been thrown off. There’s no doubt in his mind that it transported him a good way further out still and there’s no way he can make it back by himself. Even if the monster happens to be stupid enough to have left its speeder bike right next to the front door. He can’t even ride the damn thing with his leg.

Still, figuring out a little more about where he is can only be helpful in the long run, because he won’t be confined to the bed forever. Plus, it isn’t like there’s anything else to do. He just has to make sure he won’t be caught.

All too slowly making his way across the room by reaching for one piece of furniture to lean on after another, absently taking in the small mountains of datapads, holorecords and actual bound books made of paper (something else he itches to take a look at, touch - but later) strewn everywhere and what looks like a half assembled toaster on the table surrounded by tools.

Finally he reaches the door, gritting his teeth against the way his legs are trembling from exhaustion already, despite the fact that he has been supporting himself on everything he could reach, he pushes against it. It’s unlocked, opens easily under his hands and he stumbles more than steps forward in surprise and out onto sandy ground. Taking a deep breath, he looks around. It looks like he’s in another town not unlike the one he was staying in before his ill-advised chase, only this one is even smaller and doesn’t seem to have had any living inhabitants for at least fifty years if the state of the derelict houses is anything to go by.

He steps outside further, careful to keep one hand against the cold stone wall of the house to stay upright as he tries to peer in all directions. He can still see the forest on his left, albeit a good distance away. Mostly, the village seems to be shielded by rocky hills from three sides, making those directions immediately unfeasible as future escape routes. No, he will have to get back through the forest somehow.

There’s the sudden sound of steps coming from his right and Hux’s head whips up and around in that direction, his thoughts already on getting back inside and quick- when his eyes fall on the man coming around the corner, freezing at the sight of him. He only has a moment to take him in, to realize that this is his captor, the monster that brought him here. The clothes are the same mess of shaggy dark robes, as is the annoyingly large frame – only the mask is nowhere to be found.

Instead, he sees a face that is no doubt human, big brown eyes widening in shock as he stares at them. It – no, _he_ – has long, dark hair, just about curling at his neck and falling into his face. A face that looks very young in its disbelief for a split second before that is cast aside by fury, brows drawing together and full lips pulling into a snarl as he curses loudly, flings out a hand and suddenly, Hux is knocked backwards as if someone rammed into him at full speed.

Standing as he was, he is flung back into the wall and yelps when barely healed cuts and bruises on his back are aggravated again before he slides to the floor, no control over how he lands and predictably jarring his leg as well, coaxing another pained gasp from his lips as he slumps over; powerless.

“Shit.”

Through the fog of pain, he hears the footsteps coming closer, thinks about jerking away when a hand settles on his shoulder to try and push him upright, but only manages an angry snarl instead. Because between the anger and confusion over what-the-hell-just-happened, he doesn’t know what else to settle on.

“You’re not supposed to be out here,” a voice says above him and it takes a moment for it to fall into place, to realize that that raspy, deep voice belongs to his captor. He sounds completely different without the mask on, every bit as a human as he obviously is. He almost sounds defensive.

Hux grits his teeth as he gasps out his defense. “I was just looking ar– what the hell are you doing? Stop that!”

The monster doesn’t stop, only rolls his eyes and evades a weak punch coming his way as he proceeds to all but scoop Hux up from the ground and carry him back inside like he’s a large rag doll instead of a fully grown man. Hux doesn’t struggle in his hold even though he wants to, has to actively restrain himself from fighting the confident grip on his person, fully aware that if he drops from this height it’s only going to get worse for him. That doesn’t mean he’s anything less than furious when the monster unceremoniously dumps him back on his bed (though careful enough not to jar his injuries even further, he notes in a faraway corner of his mind).

“Did you honestly think you could run away in the state you’re in?”

Hux bristles at the haughty tone on top of his treatment. “I wasn’t trying to run away, I was trying to take a look around and then would’ve gotten back inside!”

“Right.”

Hux clenches his fists against the bedding, almost wishes the mask was back so he didn’t have to see or hear that insolent note of disbelief. At the same time, the lack of it makes it even easier to forget that he’s not supposed to fight with his captor. “I would’ve been fine and back here before you even knew it if you hadn’t,” he makes a wild gesture, trying to encompass whatever the monster had done to him outside, “magicked me out of the way!”

To his surprise, the monster closes his eyes, taking a shuttering breath and obviously trying to calm himself before he opens them again and, very slowly, grits out, “It’s not magic.”

“Well, what the hell is it?”

“It’s none of your business!”

Frustrated, Hux throws his hands up in the air. “Is there _anything_ you’re actually willing to answer? You won’t tell my why you’ve kept me alive, won’t tell me who you are or what I’m doing here – nothing! Do you even know?”

“Of course I know,” the monster mutters, bottom lip sticking out even as his brows furrow. He’s getting impatient and Hux doesn’t care. He’s had enough of lying around and doing nothing.

“Then at least tell me your name!”

There’s a break, a moment where the monster’s eyes seem to darken. “You already have a name for me, don’t you?” When Hux only frowns at him, he adds, _hisses_ , really. “In your mind.”

_Monster_. The word pushes unbidden and loud into his thoughts, feeling foreign and disdainful and invasive in a way that’s almost painful, the sensation making him gasp. He blinks, a hand going to his temple almost automatically as he stares at the man opposite him.

“How did you do -” He stops, inwardly cursing because he already knows he won’t get an answer to that. Quickly changing tactics he instead huffs, “If I had your proper name I wouldn’t have to call you that.”

The monster blinks, obviously taken aback by Hux turning the accusation around on him. Seconds tick by without anything being said, making Hux wonder if his captor is starting to reconsider his choice of keeping Hux alive. They’re openly mustering each other, suspicion on both sides. He’s given up on ever getting an answer, when it finally comes.

“Ren. Kylo Ren.”

When Hux only keeps staring, his eyes flick to the side almost nervously and Hux wonders dimly how much easier it would’ve been to get answers from him if he hadn’t been wearing his mask until now. He seems more open without it, in more ways than one.

“I don’t know yours either,” Ren mutters then and Hux has to mull it over before he gets it. He doesn’t bother masking the surprise in his voice when he asks, “Can’t you just-?” and gestures at his head.

“I can,” Ren grits out and Hux hears it for the threat it probably is. He could look for the answers he wants in Hux’s mind, but for whatever reason (that he will of course keep to himself), he hasn’t and apparently won’t. Maybe it’s different from the way he knew about the monster thing.

Barely remembering not to recite his rank, Hux mutters, “It’s Hux.”

“Okay.”

And that’s not the answer Hux was expecting, but then, he’s apparently very bad at anticipating anything Ren will do, so it’s hardly surprising.

“Are you finally going to tell me why you decided not to kill me? Because after throwing me off my speeder bike, you could’ve just left me there.”

Because it’s coming together now; what seemed like a freak accident where he must have hit something and not noticed was probably Ren who forcefully threw him off the thing. It’s also Ren who came back for him, however. It makes less sense than ever and is giving him a headache.

When there’s no answer apart from Ren adjusting his gloves, Hux tries to modify his question. “Why come back to patch me back up? Why come back after two days? What changed?”

A deep breath, then, “I could feel you.” He speaks slowly, hesitantly like he’s having trouble putting it into words. “At the foot of that slope. Fighting. You refused to die.”

The first thing that comes to Hux’s mind is the odd phrasing. Not, _you didn’t want to die_. He tries to recall the hazy memories he has of lying there, crawling and trying to get back up, being so angry at the world through the harsh fog of pain, screaming it into the forest. Is that what Ren felt? He feels his cheeks go hot and for the first time it’s him averting his gaze.

“It’s not something to be embarrassed about,” Ren says suddenly, with enough force to make Hux look back up at him in surprise. He’s staring at Hux with intent, eyes bright with some strong emotion he can’t yet hope to decipher. “Few people are strong enough to accept that kind of pain in order to keep living.”

It sounds like a peculiar sort of compliment, so Hux just nods, once, not returning anything.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s an odd and unfitting word to describe his situation, but it gets _easier_ after their first actual face-to-face encounter. Hux only rarely still catches himself thinking of Ren as the monster, though the reason for it is still on his mind. His captor doesn’t wear his mask anymore when he enters the bedroom and eventually, after Hux has complained about going out of his mind from boredom, dumps a holorecord in his lap without a word. At first, Hux is just grateful to have something, anything other than the damn walls to stare at, to occupy himself with.

Then he starts reading and slowly goes from mildly disdainful at the fact that Ren apparently gave him some kind of fantasy story about ancient tales of a duo of Jedi to first suspicion and then understanding. Even without the mask Ren is not a man of many words and he has not been any more forthcoming about explaining anything to Hux apart from making it clear that he didn’t plan on killing him after going through the trouble he already had – unless Hux tried anything stupid. But this… This was a more detailed and explicit answer than he could have ever hoped for.

When it starts to go dark outside and Ren wanders in with today’s sorry excuse for dinner (some days it seems like Ren just can’t be bothered), he lowers the holorecord for the first time, noting the way Ren’s eyes flit over it and then to his face before focusing on the plate in his hands. He puts it down on the bedside table without a word, as usual, and probably would have left that way, too, if Hux hadn’t said,

“So, a Jedi.”

When he only gets a grunt that’s neither confirmation nor denial, he continues. “I didn’t think they were real.”

A twitch of the lips, almost a smirk. “Most people don’t.”

“Few have ever seen proof of one.”

Hux knows a number of people who believe in the Force users, actually, but had always brushed it off, refusing to believe in myth and learn about it. Even though there were whispers of the First Order’s Supreme Leader himself being a Sith or some other creature of power. It’s nothing but rumors. Or at least, that’s what he’d thought until now.

“You have.”

Hux hums thoughtfully as he recalls the extraordinary things he’s seen Ren do, glancing back down at the holorecord in his hands. “Why tell me now? Or, well, show me now. Aren’t you worried I’ll tell someone?”

He’s dimly aware that myth that the Jedi are supposed to be, there’s a mysterious unit of knights in the First Order designated to find and kill every last person that claims to be one. For the first time it occurs to him that this order does include Ren. It’s a peculiar realization, when he already knew he was supposed to convert and bring him in.

Ren’s eyes narrow, the somewhat carefree expression of a moment ago suddenly gone. Hux has the bad feeling that it has something to do with his thoughts. “You won’t get a chance to. You’re not leaving here with that information.”

That makes him sit up straighter, narrowing his own eyes in return. “What, you plan on keeping me here forever? I will regain use of my leg eventually, Ren.”

He doesn’t need to make it any clearer than that, they must know it both. First chance Hux gets, he leaves. In an ideal world he would leave with Ren to accomplish his mission, but he has no idea yet how to accomplish that. He can hardly trick the man when he can read his damn mind.

Said man is glaring outright at him now and something dawns on Hux. “You have no idea what to do about that, do you.”

“I could still kill you,” Ren says, but it comes out more petulant than threatening.

“You won’t,” Hux replies drily, taking some pleasure in seeing the way it makes his opposite angrier. He doesn’t like being talked down to any more than Hux does.

Ren turns and vanishes into the living room without another word, being unusually loud as he tends to be after one of their little talks – they do have a tendency to make at least one of them angry. Hux has barely raised his holorecord again, satisfied that he at least won this round, when he hears glass shatter and shortly after the front door slam shut. It’s quiet enough after that to be certain that Ren has left, is out doing whatever it is he does when he leaves. Hunts down stray tourists and kills them, probably, Hux thinks spitefully and then shakes his head. Not that this backwater planet even gets tourists.

But he can’t concentrate on his holorecord anymore, too many thoughts running amok in his head. He stares at the words in front of his eyes unseeing, instead wondering if he himself has a single better formed plan for his future than Kylo Ren does.

It’s an unsettling feeling. He can’t even remember a time in his life when he honestly didn’t know how to proceed. There has always been the next goal to achieve, the next person above him to get rid of, the next step on his ladder to the top. Admittedly, he had slowed down, unable to get higher than Colonel in the time he had planned; but then this mission had come along, unwilling as he was about it.

Had he known how it would turn out – he very likely still would’ve taken it because there was no better option to get the Supreme Leader’s attention.

Abandoning the holorecord completely, Hux lets it fall from his hands, shimmying further down into the soft pillows and staring at the ceiling. There must be a way for him to still turn this train wreck into a success. If he brought back Ren, that would be ideal, of course, but it’s becoming more and more obvious that he won’t be able to. And what’s the use, really, if they’re only going to kill him there. Hux will only get the reward he needs if he can bring back the weapon that so easily decimated Phasma’s troops and prove that it is of use to them thanks to him.

Even if he manages to get back by himself and report the Jedi that captured him, it won’t get him anywhere. There has to be a better option.

Turning on his side and ignoring the various pains that induces even though he does it carefully, Hux stares at the ratty brown curtain separating the main rooms of the house. What if… what if he could turn Ren into the weapon the First Order wanted? If he came back with Hux willing to serve them, to use his powers for them. Remembering the holorecord now lying next to him on the mattress, he thinks with some amusement, what if he were to go to the _dark side_.

The amusement lingers, but he mulls the thought over. The obvious problem is, of course, that it’s close to impossible to trick the other man into it. With the still largely unknown variable of his mindreading powers (and that still boggles Hux’s own mind a fair bit), he would likely know immediately and not thank Hux for it. So he’d have to be open about it. The problem with that of course being that Ren doesn’t seem like the kind of person that is swayed by reason. There is too much still he doesn’t know. Ren’s circumstances, the extent of his powers, the extent of his _temper_ – he seems mostly reasonable even when he storms out in a fit, but Hux has seen the reports of what he’d done to the ‘troopers.

Hux sighs, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He needs more information.

*

There’s no way to tell the exact time in Ren’s weird little house, but Hux guesses it’s close to midnight by the time the man finally slinks back inside. Expression still grumpy even as he sits down at the edge of the bed with the small medkit that originated from Hux’s backpack he had returned to him a few days ago in hand, he gestures for Hux to come closer. Hux does so wordlessly, watching Ren from beneath his eyelashes as he starts undoing the bandage around his head. He always starts at the same spot.

He lets him do the work for a while, mulling different approaches over in his mind before he decides that since Ren is angry already, he might as well start with what he wants to know the most urgently and be blunt about it.

“You won’t kill me, yet you had no problem attacking the squadron of Stormtroopers that came to this planet for nothing more than a reconnaissance mission. How was killing them any different from me?”

When Ren’s usually efficient movements falter, Hux half expects him to get up and storm out again. He’s somewhat relieved when he doesn’t, instead slaps the fresh tape to his temple with enough force to make Hux slightly dizzy.

“I mean, I even followed you, so technically I gave you a reason for attacking me. They didn’t even know you existed until-”

“They shot first!"

Hux blinks at the outburst, raising his head now that Ren is done with it and watching him curiously. “That’s not what the reports say,” he says dubiously. He’s made an effort until now not to mention anything about the Order or his place in it, especially not what brought him here, but with his new objective, brutal honesty seems like the better approach. If Ren is surprised by this, it gets lost in the anger so clearly displayed on his features.

“I don’t care what your stupid reports say, I was on my way to the town and those idiots suddenly opened fire on me. It was my right to defend myself. They weren’t even supposed to be in the forest, it’s off-limits for everyone. The town’s people know that!”

 “Why?”

Ren looks at him like he’s a particularly bad kind of dense. “What do you mean, _why_?”

“Why is the forest off-limits? I doubt it belongs to you. Why do you live all the way out here, when for all intents and purposes, you’re a regular human despite your Jedi magic tricks?” Hux halts for a moment, considering. “You’re hiding here, in this abandoned village. That much I understand. What I don’t get is why. Why is it so important to stay hidden that you would attack anyone who comes too close to it?”

Because it’s becoming clear that that is the real reason why Ren and the troops clashed, he’s sure of it now and doesn’t particularly care who attacked first. If Ren just wanted to keep his powers secret, surely there was no reason to go to such extremes. Had he not attacked, the Order never would have deemed him interesting enough to investigate. There has to be another reason.

Ren glares at him before abruptly throwing the blanket back to get to work on Hux’s leg. “I answered one of your asinine questions. How is it that only makes you ask me more?”

“I’ve got a curious nature,” Hux says drily, watching Ren work. It’s somewhat hypnotizing to watch the big hands work so nimbly and carefully, even while their owner sounds like he’d rather break his leg than tend to it.

Ren snorts, shaking his head without looking up.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” He doesn’t mean it, but knows he won’t get any farther on the topic just yet. “Tell me something else, then.” Ren makes a sound suspiciously close to a whine, but Hux ignores it and continues asking his questions.

It becomes a sort of routine over the next few days, Ren coming in and Hux peppering him with questions, mostly ignored or grunted at, but sometimes actually answered. When Ren tries to avoid him, Hux starts hobbling into the main room which only serves to irritate the other man more. He expected it to take time, so he’s pleasantly surprised when it seems like Ren is deigning to answer a few questions more every day. It might just be coincidence; maybe Hux just chances on questions he’s willing to answer or doesn’t think important more often now. Maybe he develops a better sense for Ren and his violent mood swings.

What he doesn’t expect is for Ren to one day offer him help in getting outside, taking a walk. He stares at the offered walking stick wearily, not quite suspicious but trying to act like it.

“Have you finally decided to get rid of me now?”

“Shut up, Hux,” Ren says and Hux is a little startled at the small twitch of the lips. Someone is in a very good mood today.

Walking is still difficult, even when he has the thick metal stick Ren handed him when it became clear he wouldn’t stay in bed anymore to lean on with every step. But his bones are mending, as the other man has informed him and it’s no longer anywhere close to as painful to put his weight on it as it once was. His biggest issue will probably be the scars he will get from going through the healing process without any bacta properly applied to the gashes.

Technically, he thinks as they slowly walk outside, passing Ren’s speeder bike, he could stage an escape by now.

The presence beside him abruptly steps closer and Hux shakes his head in amusement. “Can’t blame me for thinking about it,” he points out; doesn’t add that for now, it’s in his best interest to remain here. He has a feeling Ren knows, anyway.

“You won’t get far,” Ren mutters darkly, proving Hux wrong and making him roll his eyes.

“I won’t actually try. Can’t you tell?” He shoots the other man a curious look, wondering briefly if he should push it before deciding and adding, “You can look into my mind if you don’t believe me. I’m staying.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do, actually. Go on, I’m giving you permission.”

They’ve stopped just a few meters from the house, staring at each other. Hux defiant, Ren doubtful.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“ _Ren_.”

“I can see everything if you let me in. Whatever little plan you’re working on, it’d be revealed and you’d be done. You realize that.”

Hux actually smirks. Like he hasn’t thought of that. There is nothing he needs to hide from the other man at the moment; if anything, Ren seeing everything could even be helpful for him. Let him see the glory of the First Order, let him see what he could achieve if he chose to follow Hux back there, the grandness of it all.

His cockiness finally does the trick, Ren clicking his tongue and leaning in, reaching up halfway towards him.

“You will have to explain to me sooner or later how this works, exactly,” Hux announces, keeping one eye on Ren’s hovering hand between them. “It makes little sense to me that you know some of what I’m thinking yet have no idea about othe-”

He gasps at the first feeling of it, like an incorporeal warmth ghosting over his temples before it inexplicably weaves itself deeper. It’s unlike anything he has ever experienced; nothing he could compare it to. Not even the vague feeling of warmth is steady, the presence – what he supposes has to be the _Force_ – going from pleasantly warm to white hot to a cold that makes him give a full body shiver and reach for Ren blindly for something to hold onto, his stick having clattered to the ground without him noticing that it had left his fingers.

It’s not painful, per se, but it sure as hell isn’t an enjoyable sensation, either. He grits his teeth as it feels like ice cubes are being dragged over the deepest part of him; a part of him that isn’t supposed to even be felt at all.

He’s only dimly aware that he’s clinging to the taller man with both hands now, trembling all over and panting when Ren eventually pulls back after what could have been seconds just as well as hours or even days.

“You’re not lying,” Ren says above him, voice interlaced with unadulterated surprise. Hux would smirk if he felt a little steadier on his feet right now.

“I’m insulted,” he gasps out instead, pushing himself back to his own feet again and mildly embarrassed by the plain show of weakness, “That you’d think that.”

Ren snorts, shaking his head. “You lie too much for that to be possible.”

Hux looks up to set him straight, but is surprised to find Ren still staring at him with something close to wonder in his eyes and decides against it. He clears his throat. “What did you want to show me, anyway?”

“Ah, we’re almost there. You’ll see.”

Hux doesn’t protest the barely there touch of a warm hand settling carefully against the small of his back, silently offering support as they continue their walk.

He does, however, protest very loudly and indignantly when Ren attempts to scoop him up to get him up the steep side of one of the rocky hills. While Hux is honestly not in any condition to climb, like hell he will be carried up there. What does Ren think he is, anyway, to attempt it so matter of factly? A sack of potatos?

The Force user must catch that thought because he looks highly amused in the face of a full-out glaring Hux. It’s not a reaction Hux is used to and he honestly misses the rigid structure of military protocol and obedience that spared him from these kinds of situations usually.

“Oh, fine. Wait a moment,” Ren says with a sigh and turns back to the direction they came from. Hux wonders if he is going back to get the speeder bike, but is proven disastrously wrong when Ren instead reappears with what looks like a broken down sled made of scrap metal. He doesn’t know where it came from but it looks suspiciously like a first failed attempt at the similar table in the house’s main room.

“No,” he immediately says, raising his finger in warning and trying to edge backwards but knowing even before the smirk steals its way onto Ren’s features that it’s useless.

One quick gesture of Ren’s hand and he’s stopped by an invisible force, unable to move any further out of reach. Ren grabs him easily by the waist and deposits him on the seat of the damned sled, making him hold onto the handles at the side.

“Don’t let go or I’m carrying you up there over my shoulder, got it?”

“Savage,” Hux mutters darkly under his breath the second the Force releases him, just loud enough to make sure Ren hears it as he starts pulling Hux up the path with ease. If the Jedi of old were anything like Ren, he understands now why they had been annihilated.

Thankfully, the track up doesn’t take more than a few minutes and Ren doesn’t stop him from clambering back to his feet with a lot more effort and curses than strictly necessary. Ren offers his arm, but Hux only sniffs in disdain.

The taller man shrugs, still clearly amused and not minding the rudeness. “Suit yourself. Maybe you’ll like my help more after we make our way back down, later.”

Hux is severely tempted to throw his damn walking stick at his head, staying on his feet be damned. Taking a deep, rattling breath, he reminds himself that he is a respected officer in the glorious First Order and is above such pettiness as he starts to follow the Force user and actually takes in his surroundings.

As opposed to what it looked like from the ground, the area is flat and wide; rocky and uneven and most surprisingly, strewn with old TIE fighters, X-wings, ARC-170 starfighters, freighters and what looks like a number of AT-AT units crumbled into useless heaps of metal. It’s a graveyard of old battleships.

It explains, he supposes, some of the very improvised-looking tech he has seen in Ren’s house. The shower in particular looks like something that had been repurposed from an era before their sonic counterparts became commonplace.

“Recognize anything from your organization?”

Hux blinks as Ren ducks back into his field of vision, having been distracted for a moment and not noticing that he had slinked off. He frowns, takes another look around, taking a few halting steps forward.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Ren hums thoughtfully, shooting Hux curious looks and seeming all too buoyant for Hux’s taste. It’s like he brought Hux up here to show him his oversized sandbox and unusual assortment of toys like some kind of overexcited and overlarge kid.

“I thought you,” a gesture to encompass not just Hux but the entirety of the First Order with him, “Were using the same ships as the Empire did.”

Hux inclines his head, not quite nodding. The beginnings of the First Order were rooted deeply in the old Empire and they did use a number of the designs of the old ships and technology, but they had all been improved and developed further over time; it would be inaccurate to say that they were the same.

“I take it you’re interested in battle ships,” Hux ventures, eyes focusing on the crashed TIE fighter closest to them and slowly moving over there. There was the possibility that it had a functioning subspace transceiver...

A firm hand on his arm and Hux comes to a halt, giving Ren a questioning look. Ren only shakes his head.

“The ones closest are all empty by now. If you want to find anything useful, you have to go pretty far,” the taller man explains and Hux suddenly works out where Ren gets the tech to trade for supplies in the village he was waiting for him in. “And I’m only interested as far as I can use them. My knowledge of ships and their technology is… improvised, at best.”

“That’s why I brought you up here. I found something years ago that I think is a comnet receiver, but I can’t take it out of the ship without damaging it. It still works, I think, you just need the right frequency and you can get news from your organization.” He shrugs, unaware of Hux staring at him in disbelief. “I mean, I don’t know if you’re important enough to have any of the frequencies, but-”

Hux huffs, irritated. “I’m a Colonel, Ren. There aren’t many ranks higher than that.”

Ren just shrugs, obviously not at all impressed. It’s likely he doesn’t know much about the military and its structure. “All I’m aware of is that you’re with the New Order-”

“The _First_ Order,” Hux bites out stiffly.

“Or that. In any case, I wasn’t aware of your rank, _Colonel_. I just thought you might like to hear an update on what’s been happening in the universe since you came here.”

The formal title sends a curious shiver down Hux’s spine, likely because he hasn’t been addressed that way in months now. And because hearing Ren actively trying to do something nice for him is…well. Nice. Even if the equipment would only allow him to receive transmissions and not send a report himself. Anyway. The comnet receiver.

“Where is it?”

Ren leads him to it, that large hand returning to the small of his back with a little more confidence behind it this time and Hux still doesn’t protest it, even if he is increasingly aware of the heat it sends crawling up and down his spine.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s not unusual for Hux to lay awake deep into the night. He had gotten used to it in the Academy, often reading the nights away in his bunk bed, and maintained the habit into his military service. Since ‘arriving’, for lack of a better word, in Ren’s house, his sleeping patterns have understandably been irregular. First it was the pain and whatever Ren gave him for it and not helped by being Force-knocked-out twice in the beginning. After that, without his noticing, it had evened out. Somehow, he had gotten used to sleeping through the nights and waking up rested well after the sun had risen every morning. It’s disappointing that he only really becomes aware of this change now, that he lies wide awake, staring at the ceiling and missing it.

When he looks to his left, he can see the light from the main room still glowing from beneath the curtain, a sure sign that he’s not the only one still up, though Ren is suspiciously quiet. He considers it for long minutes before finally, careful of jarring his leg, he gets out of bed and quietly pads barefoot across the small room, through the curtain and into the next.  

He can see Ren’s hulking form, sitting hunched over next to the table; on the ground instead of on the sofa like a normal human being. Sometimes he seems determined to corroborate Hux’s theory that he’s some kind of feral child having picked up some human like habits by observation alone.

Something else he sees, however, is Ren turning the page of the book in his hands – because it’s one of the few actual leather and paper books from his collection. It strikes Hux yet again how delicately he handles the thing, feels oddly reminded of the hand on his back a few days ago and shivers lightly.

Ren’s whole expression seems almost alien in the dim light, soft and attentive in a way Hux hasn’t seen yet. He’s wondering what it will take for Ren to notice him standing there, frozen like some kind of sorry thief only a few steps away from him. He’s always so aware of his surroundings. Hux’s mind supplies the image of that blaster bolt stopped in midair and wonders how much concentration a technique like that requires.

What is it that holds Ren’s attention captive so completely now?

“Did you need something?”

It’s typical that it’s him that ends up being startled by Ren’s deep voice, having sunk too deeply into his own musings as he was watching him.

“I- no. Can’t sleep,” he admits and ambles closer, watching for any sign that he isn’t welcome and when there is none, he sinks down onto the middle of the sofa. There’s a small blanket at the end of it and he knows Ren sleeps here, but it’s not cold enough yet to reach for it. The other end is a little too close to Ren for comfort. “What are you reading?”

It’s not an entirely earnest question and from the amused look Ren shoots him, he knows it. Of course it’s another book about the Jedi, the Sith, the Force or something about all of them mixed together. It seems to be all Ren owns; or at the very least all Hux has seen and gotten his hands on. Not because he was snooping, but because Ren just literally drops the next holorecord in his lap the second he finishes one. Still, he doesn’t feel like he knows much about it all. To be honest, he suspects that at least one of the holorecords was intended for children. It certainly read like a bedtime story.

Opposite him, Ren lets out an amused huff of laughter, further substantiating his suspicions.

“It wouldn’t’ be interesting to you, it’s not a history book,” he says, somewhat condescendingly; inadvertently achieving Hux’s interest through the tone alone.

“Then what? And what exactly do you think I had to read at the Academy, fairy tales? Try me, before you deem me too stupid for your little Force bibles.”

To his chagrin, Ren’s half-smile only widens. “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything of the sort,” he all but purrs and Hux ignores the little quiver that runs down his spine at the sound. “It’s not something you could use, Hux. It’s about the practical application of the Force. A textbook, if you want.”

“I didn’t think there were self-study books for the Force. What’s it called, ‘How to Become an Awesome Jedi in Five Steps’?”

Ren shakes his head, that damnable smile not quite slipping off his face. He’s been in a good mood for days now and for some reason he can’t fathom, it irks Hux to no end. In some ways, it was so much simpler to deal with a faceless monster.

“It was once part of the collection of the great Jedi Archives,” he pauses, strokes over the spine of the book thoughtfully, his voice sounding strange when he adds, quieter, “There was more knowledge there than anywhere else in the galaxy.”

Hux takes that in with some bemusement, thinks of the endless corridors of the libraries he’s seen and of the few piles Ren owns; wonders if that is all that’s left of it now. “Are all your books and holorecords from there?”

“No,” Ren blinks as if to clear his head, putting the book aside with a small frown. “I often don’t even know where they’re from. I can’t always check them properly before I acquire them, either, which is why I ended up with some of the holorecords I gave you.” Another amused twitch of the lips. “Though those can hold hidden gems sometimes, too. And they were easier to understand when I was younger.”

Hux raises his eyebrows, intrigued by more than one aspect of what he’s hearing. Ren seems to be in a sharing mood, which he has no trouble admitting he wants to exploit. “Why do you need to study these by yourself at all? From what I understood, all Jedi are supposed to have a master to learn from.”

Their eyes meet halfway through Hux’s question, with Ren considering him carefully. Measuring him, against what, he can’t even hope to guess. But whatever it is, he seems to pass when Ren holds his gaze and draws a deep breath for his answer. Suddenly, the dim lights seem almost too low, giving the odd impression of candlelight as they flicker just barely, making Hux feel their proximity so much more distinctly than he is comfortable with.

“I used to have a teacher, when I was still very young. He was… impatient. There were a lot of students, because the Jedi Order no longer exists to reign their kind of order over people as they used to.”

There’s a note of bitterness there that Hux catches, that makes him lean closer, to make sure he catches every word Ren utters and every nuance of his expressions. It seems important.

“Something… happened. I had to leave. I’m not really a Jedi, I don’t think. I don’t agree with so many of their teachings. They are cold and heartless and weak in the many ways they refuse to make use of the Force.”

Hux barely manages to open his mouth before Ren already shakes his head, running a hand through his unruly mane of black hair, pushing it out of his face. “No, I’m not a Sith, either.”

It doesn’t feel like his own words when they leave his mouth. “What are you, then?”

Large brown eyes grow solemn as they find his and hold them. “I am Kylo Ren. I choose neither the dark side nor the light, though they both pull at me, trying to make me choose my way to ruin.”

It’s said with gravitas and Hux wonders why he’s not laughing, not belittling Ren’s vision of grandeur. He thinks it might be the darkness of those brown eyes boring into his with a feverish intensity, allowing no doubt of his sincerity. For the moment, he can do nothing but accept it as the truth.

“How do you know it would ruin you to choose a side?”

_Would it ruin you to choose mine_ , he wonders in his mind, hoping that it’s not one of the thoughts Ren catches so easily. If he does, he gives no sign of it. Hux is thankful, but edges closer to the other man again as his expression darkens. Contrarily, he instantly misses the playfulness the other man exuded before, feeling the change in mood almost physically. The room temperature seems to drop, but the blanket is suddenly too far away to reach for.

“I was shown,” Ren says, frown deepening inward before he focuses on Hux again. “I can show you.”

His hand reaches out hesitantly, hovering centimeters from Hux’s face and he wonders dimly when he moved to the edge of the sofa, knees almost brushing Ren’s with how close they’re sitting now. He has allowed Ren into his head before and while it wasn’t pleasant, he also doesn’t hesitate before nodding; giving his consent again. He wants to understand this man more than anything at this moment.

For the mission, he adds belatedly in his own mind, not sure if he himself is entirely convinced by it. Warm fingers brush against his temples and his eyes flutter closed in unison with the other man’s, a moment passing before that indescribable feeling of the Force invading his mind occurs. It feels familiar only for a moment, then entirely different. It’s like he’s plunged into water this time, or maybe a tank of bacta, only not as well tempered. Something that he quintessentially recognizes as Ren seems to pass over him, enclose him, before he hears the whisper of voices and looks up at a man in black Jedi garb, frowning down at him with disappointment.

He is no longer in Ren’s house, sitting too close; instead he’s in an old building, sitting sullenly on cold stone steps as the man sighs deeply.

“You can’t keep doing this. You’re not a child anymore and I have neither the time nor the will to deal with your outbursts. You need to learn to control yourself!”

There’s anger slowly boiling in him and Hux is so lost for a moment before he realizes that it must be Ren’s, must be what he felt at this moment. It’s strong enough to make his teeth rattle, but there’s more under it, threatening to bubble to the surface if he doesn’t cover it with the anger.

_Luke can’t see_. The thought hurtles by, panicked. _He’ll hate me even more_.

Another sigh as close by, a shelf starts to shake. Luke opens his mouth and there’s a loud screeching sound that makes Hux want to physically cover his ears in a way that he isn’t able to, but it stops as quickly as it begins, transforming into normal speech the very next second. It doesn’t make sense, but he can’t get an explanation here.

“-n, you know why you can’t just let your emotions get the better of you like that. It’s the path to the dark side. It’s dangerous.”

_You’re dangerous. You will turn out like him. I can’t let that happen_.

These are not Ren’s thoughts, Hux knows. These are the Jedi’s and they aren’t meant for Ren’s ears, but he can glean them so easily, even without meaning to. They cut deeply into the boy, making him turn around and run, run as quick as he can to get away, because he can’t stop the tears any longer.

There’s a lurch as the world seems to turn inside out, flashes of the boy Hux is seeing the past of. He already looks like Ren, is maybe twelve or thirteen, but his face doesn’t look quite done yet when Hux is aware of how it will change in the future. His ears seem too big, his hair too short, his nose too prominent and his eyes too insecure beneath that black fringe. It seems impossible for him to turn out as beautiful as Hux knows he will.

The next moment, he finds himself outside, in the short grass on a cliff. There are three figures before him, almost see-through and entirely not of this world. He knows without being told that these are ghosts, but he can’t even focus on them properly with the foreign anger and resentment burning though him at their words. He can’t hear them clearly either, only gleaning impressions from Ren’s turbulent memories.

They tell him that light and dark are balanced within him, that he will be very powerful one day, that he already is. But they also warn him not to stray from the path, that he can only fulfill his destiny if he becomes a force of the light. That he is unstable but if he just trains rigorously enough, he can succeed.

But Ren hears what they don’t say, don’t even dare to think around him because they know better than even Luke what the extent of his powers are. He’s dangerous. He will be worse than his grandfather if he falls to the dark side and none of them believe he will be able to resist, because he is so full of emotions that he threatens to spill over at any given time. He does, and far too often. It’s why his mother sent him away as soon as she could. She was also afraid of him, like they all are.

Another violent lurch and Hux finds himself in a sparse cot, is curled up in front of a fire and far away from any people; dead or living. Still, there’s a voice in his head, one he has known for as long as he can remember. The voice has taught him many things over the years, things Luke got angry about when he found out. It has shown him that he will cause nothing but death if he stays with Luke’s new Jedi Order and too often, Ren finds himself listening closely, attentively, because there is no one else who understands him like the voice does.

He listens this time, too, but something is different. He is not feeling as understood and secure as he usually does when they talk, instead anxiousness settles over him when the voice starts telling him what will happen to the other children under Luke’s care. The voice wants him to do it, is so disappointed when he refuses. But then it changes and tells him it will be done soon, and the next lurch feels different; seems to punch the air from Hux’s lungs as the screaming starts everywhere around him.

The world doesn’t come back into focus. It remains as screams and accusations, panicked confusion at the fleeting images of far too much blood and small distorted bodies, a faceless woman with an intricate hairstyle yelling and a man in a leather jacket turning and walking away for the last time, countless stars passing by at incredible speed, the crushing disappointment when those he had hoped still loved him gave him up for lost without a second thought and the knowledge, the cold certainty, that it will happen again on a much grander scale if he ever chooses a side; the pure terror of it. If either side ever catches him. But they can’t, because he runs and runs, stays nowhere for long as he tricks his way into people’s homes and to their food, keeps running and running until he finally doesn’t have to anymore. He is no longer B-

Hux draws air into his lungs like his head has been held underwater for too long, like he was close to drowning. He falls back, wildly looking around and disoriented for long seconds as he sees nothing but a room closing in on him and someone sitting too close to him, feels a soul-shattering pain in his chest that is not his own.

“Are you alright?”

He is panting, confused about more than where he is. It’s an impossible feeling, being in someone else’s head. His own thoughts refuse to settle again and he doesn’t even notice when Ren gets up and settles back down next to him, cupping his face with his huge warm hands and looking at Hux intently. He still feels distant when compared to how connected they were a moment ago. There’s a tendril of Force slipping into his mind, he can tell now, but it doesn’t do much this time, or at least not much he notices. Only that he calms suddenly and honestly, he’s thankful for it, nodding at Ren after a few moments when he gets another concerned stare, trying to get his breathing back under control.

The hands draw back, but Ren stays where he is, looking at Hux thoughtfully and leaning into the back of the couch sideways, almost letting his head drop onto it.

“I haven’t done that in years so it was a bit rougher than I expected. Sorry.”

Hux snorts, still a bit breathless. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one.”

Ren’s answering smile is sheepish, but he doesn’t say anything else. He seems to be waiting for Hux to do something. Pass judgement on him, maybe, but he looks so relaxed with the way he’s all but melted into the couch, it’s hard to tell.

“Those were your memories,” Hux ventures after a while, contemplative. Ren nods, his cheek rubbing against the material of the couch. “What happened to the voice?”

The other man sounds tired when he answers, though he still radiates ease. Maybe one is the result of the other. “I learned how to shield my mind, so it can’t reach me anymore. No one can. Since then, I don’t need to run anymore.”

“And you stay here.”

It’s a lot of new information to take in and thanks to the way it was delivered, it’s not easy to just file away logically. He can still feel an echo of sorts of the emotions turning young Ren’s mind into chaos when he tries to look at it calmly. He will have to think about it rationally later, when he can concentrate again. For the moment, he feels exhausted in a way he wasn’t, before, but he doesn’t want to return to his bed yet.

The books, he thinks absently, are probably how Ren learned to shield his mind. Maybe that’s why he started collecting them; he must have been trying to get stronger on his own. It doesn’t quite fit with his wish to remain here unchallenged and neutral forever, but Hux only files that away for later, too. It’s good that even unconsciously, Ren has been getting ready to fight for the majority of his life. It will be useful when he finally convinces him to leave this place and join the Order.

Ren might think he will destroy the whole galaxy if he chooses a side, but Hux is certain that as long as there is someone to keep Ren tethered, that won’t happen.

Nudging Ren with his knee and half-smiling at him tiredly, he asks, “So, how did you end up here? Were you the one that flattened this village?”

His light tone has the desired effect when it brings the amused twinkle back to liquid eyes.

“It was already ‘flattened’ when I got here, I’ll have you know.”

“Sure,” Hux says, agreeable around a yawn. Ren nudges his knee this time, more hesitant than Hux did in what Hux is coming to realize is an unfamiliarity on how to utilize physical contact. It always seems practical when Ren touches him, always following a purpose – be it to carry him around that one day, tend to his wounds or offer his help with moving around. He seems uncertain on how to handle another human being in his space and that makes a lot more sense now.

“It was! I even renovated this house, to make it livable again. Build it back up, got some parts from the ships around here and installed them to get electricity and everything.”

He actually looks fairly proud of that, though Hux knows how many people live in similar circumstances to Ren, some even living in the old ships themselves, so he just shakes his head, refusing to pay him the compliment he evidently wants.

Obviously a bit disappointed, Ren eventually gives up and instead asks, “Anything else you want to know?”

_Too much_ , Hux thinks, ruefully. He couldn’t count all the questions he still wants to ask, all the things he still wants to know about this mysterious man sitting next to him. But so few seem to be relevant for his mission, at this moment.

He frowns slightly, considering. Hux can’t help but wonder what has changed that he is suddenly offered answers so easily. Is it the mood? Is Ren just tired and more willing to share?

“I know for what purpose you’re asking now.”

Almost nervously, Hux licks his lips. He isn’t even surprised that Ren caught that thought, not anymore. “And what is that?”

“Finding something to draw me away from here. You want me to go with you and join the First Order, so you can rise above the small minded fools standing in your way and do what you think you were born and raised to.”

It doesn’t sound like a good reason to Hux’s ears when it’s explained to him, his back stiffening against what sounds like an accusation, even if it’s a truth he has offered Ren himself when he let him look into his mind for the first time.

Ren’s half-smile is almost hypnotizing and Hux finds his eyes drawn to it against his will. “But that’s not the only reason you want me to come with you. You may not realize it fully, but when you try to manipulate me and lure me away from here, it’s not just because you want to use me to get ahead.”

Hux feels his pulse jump uncomfortably beneath his skin, eyes narrowing, the fatigue lifting abruptly to make room for something else. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s what I just said,” Ren observes and has the gall to sound amused, like he does indeed know something Hux doesn’t. It’s hard to remember that he missed that levity not too long ago.

Annoyed with how he let the situation get away from his control, Hux stands up stiffly, careful not to touch any part of Ren as he does. It’s impossible with how close they were sitting, his thigh and arm and fingers brushing his warmth without his consent. He turns rigidly to his current quarters. “It’s late. I think I’ll go back to bed.”

“Good night, Hux.”

The sound of a deep and rich voice, laughing quietly in the distance, follows him into his uneasy dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I took a whole week to post the next chapter (and it's pretty short, too)! A lot of stuff came up this week and I just didn't have the time. :( On the plus side, the last chapter will be more than twice as long as this one? And I'll add it on Sunday. 
> 
> Also, I don't reply to the comments because I know some people like to filter fics that way, but reading them and seeing the kudos you guys leave makes me so happy, you have no idea. This fandom is incredibly nice and I'm having a blast, so thank you guys!! ♥ I hope you enjoy this chapter.

True to his returned terrible sleeping habits, Hux wakes up far earlier than he wants to and, as always, his mind starts immediately rattling along, making it impossible to refuse the world even when he buries his head in his pillow with a quiet whine. He feels exhausted still, partly blames Ren in his head last night for it. Or rather it was him in Ren’s head, wasn’t it? In any case, that onslaught of intense emotions was not something Hux is used to dealing with and his head is pounding like he emptied an entire bottle of Twi'lek liquor by himself before going to bed.

His head is barely any clearer than it was last night, emotions not his own still echoing in his chest, things that never happened to him upsetting him more than he likes to admit. On top of it all, Ren’s face smooshed half into the back of the couch, expression soft and unguarded as he regarded Hux, is prevalent at the forefront of his mind and his chest constricts almost painfully.

_I have no idea what you’re talking about_ , he recalls exclaiming and presses his eyes shut with more force, willing away the knowledge that it was a lie.

Eventually resigning himself to his fate, Hux grumpily moves to the refresher, donning another oversized tunic of Ren’s and wondering, not for the first time, why he’d had so little clothing in his small bag and why Ren only seems to bother with the laundry after Hux has complained about it for a dozen times, minimum.  At least the trousers are his own again, now that his leg is scarcely bandaged anymore.

Still, giving the mirror a disgusted last glance before he turns away and pads towards the living room, he looks ridiculous. His hair has grown out, made all the more obvious by the fact that he can’t slick it back like he’s used to and is instead hanging into his face. Really, the too big piece of clothing only makes him look smaller; it’s the unchecked hair that makes him look stupidly young and innocuous. At least Ren owns a razor he can use for his stubble.

He’s somewhat surprised to find Ren still on the couch when he enters the main room, curled up beneath the blanket and breathing softly. Usually, the taller man is already up and about by the time Hux gets up; sometimes outside training or playing with his graveyard full of ships, Hux doesn’t always know.

He wanders closer, maybe to wake him up, he’s not sure yet. For the moment he just stares at the other man, deciding quietly that no matter how messy his own hair is, he will never let it become as unruly and long as Ren’s. Though it doesn’t look silly on him, much to Hux’s chagrin.

Even now, half covering his face and half splayed over the small pillow on the couch’s armrest, it looks soft to the touch and gives Ren an almost celestial halo. With his features relaxed he looks younger in sleep, though barely anything like the boy Hux now knows he once was. The ridiculous ears are still there, however, he thinks with a private smile, brushing aside a strand of hair to reveal one.

Something has changed, he admits to himself as he carefully pulls his fingers back, not wanting to wake Ren up after all. Lines that seemed still clearly drawn have been obliterated now, smudged when he was allowed into Ren’s memories to not only see them, but conceive them and their aftermath in his very core. He feels like he experienced more than just what he was shown, that there is a deeper understanding now of who Kylo Ren truly is; his essence, maybe, and it has rattled Hux’s entire being as a consequence.

He loses time like that; standing over the younger man’s sleeping form and wondering, perhaps with some honesty for the first time, what he is doing here.

There is some truth to what Ren accused him of last night, even if he is loath to admit it. He’s not here just to complete his mission, not anymore. He can’t pinpoint the moment his objective became clouded, but wants to put it at around the time he first saw Ren without his stupid mask on. Because a monster, he could have tricked into coming back with and working for him. This man, however, with his stormy moods, too strong emotions and strange words, he can’t control at all.

Instead, it sometimes feels like he is the one being lured in, being tricked into doing what Ren wants, maybe.

He sighs quietly, leaning his hip against the couch to take some of the weight of his leg which is beginning to twitch from the long time standing up. Lying to himself has never helped him; it’s a foolish trait that will only cloud his judgement further.

The truth is, he wants Ren to come with him, back to the First Order. That hasn’t changed and likely never will. He is loyal to the core and will never abandon his beliefs.

The truth is also, that he wants Ren as more than a tool. As what, exactly, he’s afraid to put a name to. He wants him close, in any case, and it’s not a feeling he is familiar with. But Ren is someone he can trust in a way that is also new to him; has let him into his mind without considering the consequences, because Ren knows him now and that is dangerous.

The truth is, everything about Ren is dangerous. From the way he looked at Hux so knowingly last night, to his careful and always hesitant touches and the brute strength he could display at the drop of a hat.  He is supposed to want Ren for his mission, but must admit now that he wants Ren for who he is.

He has no idea what to do about it if he doesn’t want to ruin everything; feels like a trap has been laid out for him and he is willingly walking into it. He hates it.

“You’re thinking really loudly,” a slurred voice grumbles and Hux only raises an eyebrow at the man squinting up at him, a hand sluggishly emerging from the blanket to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“We can’t all sleep away the day without using our brains at all.” His voice comes out somewhat raspy; he blames it on not having been awake for long himself.

Ren glares, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the clumsy way he struggles to his feet. Without another word, he vanishes towards the refresher through what is effectively Hux’s room, only making a rude gesture when Hux taunts,

“Well, aren’t you lovely when you first wake up.”

He chuckles slightly, turning towards the kitchen with the intent of finding something else to occupy himself with. Ren keeps no caf in the house, he already knows that much. But sometimes there’s a bitter sort of tea that has a similar effect, at least, and he could use some of that.

Long minutes of perusing Ren’s kitchen cabinets eventually yield two mugs, the desired tin box of tea and a kettle to heat it in. It leaves Hux absently grumbling about the Force user’s lack of a system as he watches the water boil, shifting to lean his hip against the counter with gritted teeth before finally pouring it over the tea leaves.

Ren emerges moments after Hux has cleaned the kettle out and set it aside to dry and makes a beeline for one of the mugs, making Hux wonder if he’s been waiting to come out until after he was done. Then he actually looks at Ren and has to keep from thinking anything at all.

“You made tea,” Ren notes, pleased as he takes a sip and hums in approval.

He’s wearing lose sitting pants, no different from the ones he usually wears under all his layers. The significant difference is that all those layers are missing, leaving him in only a black tank top with his hair pulled back in a sloppy fashion, leaving only a few of the longer strands to fall into his face. He looks almost indecent when compared to what Hux is used to.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Hux bursts out, unable to hold the question in any longer. _Thinking loudly_ ; this has to be Ren’s response to what he’d heard.

“Mmh? Oh, training,” Ren replies absently over his cup before tilting his head at Hux. There’s a challenge in his eyes. “Come along and watch if you want.”

Hux stares after him, incredulous, as he just saunters out after the offer, cup still in hand. His head is weakly pounding, making him grab around for his own tea blindly and take a big gulp of the still deceptively hot liquid. He can hear shuffling outside.

He stays rooted to the spot, emptying his cup and fixing himself another one, draining that one too and cleaning up after himself again mechanically. He can still hear noises outside and ignores them, instead moving over to the couch and grabbing one of the flimsi scrolls Ren left lying around, burying his nose in there.

A small part of his brain argues that he should go outside, that watching Ren train can only benefit him; would show him some of what the Force user can really do. A bigger part knows perfectly well when a trap is being set and refuses to walk into it. He knows his own fascination for graceful displays of strength too well to go and seal his own fate, because he has seen enough of how Ren moves and now also enough of his body to get an idea of what he’ll see.

He abandons the scroll for another one when it turns out to be about ancient Sith customs and instead finds one about different meditation techniques and the ways to employ the Force in that state. It’s interesting even on a purely theoretical level  and so he gets lost in the text, not looking up when Ren strolls back in, pausing briefly before vanishing into the refresher. He can hear the sound of water running and finally stopping, of feet across first the tiled floor and then eventually the cold stone of the main room, can feel the back of the couch dipping underneath Ren’s weight when he leans on it to read over Hux’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, more than likely aware of the confused state of Hux’s mind.

“Your kitchen is almost empty,” Hux offers after some silent minutes during which he barely turned a page.

Ren hums his agreement; it seems to reverberate through the entire sofa and Hux himself. He doesn’t usually invade Hux’s space like this for longer periods of time without a good reason. “I need to go into town again, soon. The rations don’t last as long when they’re for two people.” A beat, then he carefully reaches out to push the scroll down, out of Hux’s direct line of sight. “There’s something else you want to say.”

“Not really, no.”

“Hux.”

He finally turns his head enough to glare at the man hovering behind him, somewhat relieved to find him in more familiar garbs as he seems to be wearing a tunic similar to the one Hux is wearing and his shawl around his neck, hiding much of his form beneath it.

“You already know, don’t you?” He hisses, angry for no logical reason. He already knows what will happen, wants it even, but Ren’s prodding makes him feel trapped and feeling like there’s no escape left for him and he really doesn’t appreciate it.

Ren blinks, obviously taken aback by the outburst, and looks down at his crossed arms on the couch like they hold all the answers. “Maybe I was wrong,” he mutters, but doesn’t move away.

He’s waiting for Hux to deny it while giving him a doubtful out he clearly doesn’t want to give at all. Hux sighs, reaching up with one hand to push a strand of hair behind those ridiculous ears to get an unobscured view of Ren’s face. He doesn’t miss the way Ren leans into the touch ever so slightly. It’s so easy to reach for him, now. He wonders if he should miss the distance that used to be between them, finds he can’t.

“You weren’t. Aren’t.” The way those brown eyes light up is worth the humiliation of having to say it, Hux thinks; briefly conflicted on how to express it. The simple truth is best, he decides, following his own earlier advice. “I want you. For more than just the Order.”

Ren is leaning closer, their foreheads almost touching as he whispers, “Then for what do you want me?”

Hux briefly lets his eyes flutter shut. “For myself.”

When he opens them again, he finds Ren staring at him with a flush high on those cheekbones, full lips parted ever so slightly. Hux wants nothing more in that moment than for him to lean in and kiss him, but Ren doesn’t move.

Despite his earlier insistence, Ren suddenly seems hesitant, unsure even, and Hux frowns at the change before it slowly begins to dawn on him. Ren has lived almost all his life on the run or in hiding, with only tales of long gone mythical fighters as his companion. He likely doesn’t know how to proceed; if they are to proceed at all, it’s Hux who will have to take the first step.

For a moment, he himself becomes unsure, before he remembers who he is and that taking control is one of the things Colonel Hux of the First Order does best. He surges forward without any more hesitation, cupping one hand at the back of Ren’s head and pulling him into the kiss physically as he surges upwards to meet him halfway.

He’s surprised by how easily Ren follows along, how eagerly he responds to every slight movement of lips and tongue and fingers in his soft hair. It’s another dim realization as he pulls back, stares at Ren, who gazes back wide-eyed and waiting for Hux to decide the next move even as he unconsciously tips closer to Hux. Ren is practically begging to be touched and Hux gives in quickly and willingly, letting him have all the attention he could possibly want.

Ren is all but starved for touch and it makes so much sense when he actually thinks about it; thinks about how hesitant Ren’s own touch has always been and how often it was only a practical means to an end. In a faraway corner of his mind he thinks that if he had realized sooner, he could have used this to his advantage.

Ren tenses against him abruptly and for once Hux knows exactly why, is already shaking his head without breaking their kiss, running his fingers through the long black strands in a calming manner. _I haven’t - I won’t_ , he thinks as loudly as he can and is humblingly relieved when Ren melts back into him with a sigh against his lips.

He doesn’t plan on ever letting go of him again, now that he has him; now that this beautiful creature is his.


	6. Chapter 6

 Hux wakes up feeling smothered and too warm, frowning without opening his eyes before he becomes aware of his surroundings enough to remember why that is. It’s the second day in a row he wakes up like this, legs tangled and pressed close to Ren’s chest, back to the wall with no space at all between them. He blames the size of the bed, same as he did yesterday, and refuses to move away from the calming rhythm of Ren’s heartbeat beneath his ear just yet.

It beats the even tinier couch which they had learned very quickly after Hux had all but pulled Ren onto it with him after those first few desperate kisses; the furniture definitely not big enough for two men of their size to do anything but sit on it or, at most, lay on it calmly together (and even then Ren’s legs tended to slip off the side).

It’s hot and he feels like he urgently needs a shower, but this is something precious and new too and he wants to cling on desperately for fear of it slipping through his fingers if he isn’t careful. For now, he can still cite his injury as his reason for staying instead of reporting back to the Order, but all too soon, that excuse will lose its validity. And then _this_ will end; one way or another. Ren moves against him suddenly, his head turning with a barely there frown on his features and Hux tries to make himself stop thinking. That’s not the kind of thought he wants to wake Ren up with (it’s not really what he wants to think about, either).

Instead, he carefully untangles one arm from the unnecessary blanket to reach up and push aside some of the black curly strands of hair that have fallen into Ren’s face again. It’s not a stolen touch now that he has done it dozens of time already, keeps finding excuses to tangle his fingers in the luscious hair whenever Ren is close enough. And they’ve barely parted since that first kiss on the couch. The taller man’s nose twitches and Hux doesn’t suppress the smile threatening to show on his lips.

“You’re awake, aren’t you,” he stage-whispers sternly.

One brown eye opens to peer down at him and Hux can’t stop the laughter bubbling up.

“Didn’t wanna get up,” Ren mumbles, voice still scratchy and rolling over Hux comfortably.

“Well, now that we’re both awake, I don’t see a reason not to,” Hux decides and props himself up on his elbows, making a show of trying to leave the too warm bed only to be, predictably, stopped. Ren reaches up quickly, wrapping a strong arm around Hux’s waist and pulling him down on top of him swiftly; burying his nose in Hux’s neck and humming contently as he starts pressing soft kisses along the line of it.

It takes a while before Hux eventually makes his way into the main room after a quick shower to find Ren already standing in front of the stove, moving two small pots around on it like he can’t quite decide what to do with them.

He comes to stand next to him to peek into the pots curiously, always unwillingly impressed with Ren’s ability to cook decently. He just doesn’t seem the type, even without the mask and all those silly layers of shawls and robes. Sometimes he abandons his cooking halfway through, however, attention having been drawn elsewhere or just becoming fed up with standing around for too long. In those rare cases he does remain focused on his task until the end, the result is always amazing.

Like a magnet being drawn in, Ren soon steps sideways and behind him to wrap himself around the smaller man’s form, letting his chin come to rest on Hux’s shoulder as he reaches over with one hand to stir the suspect yellow substance in the smaller of the two pots. Hux only shakes his head even as he leans back into the solid presence behind him.

His first assessment had been accurate; Ren can’t seem to keep his hands away from Hux at all. As hesitant as he had been at first, once Hux had made it abundantly clear that he wanted Ren’s hands on him, it was like he instantly forgot all his inhibitions. In the last two days, they hadn’t been physically separated for longer than ten minutes at a time, Hux is certain. Given the proverbial inch, Ren took miles with ease.

It helps, probably, that Hux gives it gladly and enthusiastically; even now turning halfway around to press a kiss to the side of Ren’s jaw just to see him smile bashfully. He can’t quite believe his luck that this – _Ren_ – fell into his hands the way he did. It’s not something that was part of his plans or even his greater designs for his life until maybe many, many years later, if he ever happened to find someone he could stand for long enough to let them close.

Ren has slipped past all his barriers and secrets so easily, it makes him almost dizzy when he looks at it from a more analytical standpoint so he leaves it for a later time, as he has for the past two days. He can justify it easily enough to himself, since Ren is leaving for the village this afternoon and he will have nothing to occupy himself with and no Force user to be distracted by for several hours. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, so he turns around fully to chase it away with something more pleasant.

Getting lost in Ren is easy and comes almost too naturally, no inhibitions between them as they explore the other in every way possible. It’s one thing to share in the physical way they do, though Hux has rarely indulged in his life and he now knows Ren hadn’t ever, before. But Ren also slips into his mind so easily now, barely glancing at him for permission because Hux all but pulls him in whenever they touch, wanting Ren everywhere at once, even his head. It’s intoxicating to share that way, as well, to have Ren pull him in in return, just sense all the thoughts and the emotions the other is experiencing in that very moment.

Despite their best efforts, time seems to pass quickly between meals and clumsy fumbling on the couch between both of them trying to read and all too soon, they’re standing outside next to Ren’s speeder bike, Hux with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning halfway against the house even though it’s getting easier and easier to remain standing for long periods of time without any pain in his leg. He’s watching Ren closely as he straps the bag of pilfered tech onto the speeder bike’s back, focused mostly on the black gloves and the mask under Ren’s arm that he hasn’t seen for so long now it seems almost surreal. Everything about this situation is surreal and it makes him sullen against his will.

After a little more fiddling, Ren seems to be finished with his preparations and turns to face him. He licks his lips in what Hux has come to recognize as a nervous gesture and he waits not so patiently for the inevitable to come. “So, will you still be here when I come back?”

Hux sighs deeply, looking heavenward in the most exasperated fashion he can muster before he grounds out, “Ren. Really?”

Ren shrugs, playing with the mask in his hands restlessly, looking somewhat sheepish but no less serious. “You’ve been thinking that this won’t last long.”

This. _Them_. Hux sighs again, reaching out to grab Ren’s shawl and draw him close with it. Of course Ren had picked up on that and drawn the wrong conclusions. “Idiot,” he chides, though it comes out fond more than anything with the way he whispers it against the other’s lips. “I’ve been thinking of the future, yes, but not about leaving you.” He gives in and presses a brief kiss to those full lips, leaning into it when strong arms slide around his waist, keeping him where he is. “Take another look.”

He doesn’t need to specify and Ren doesn’t ask if he’s sure, not anymore. He instead leans his forehead against Hux’s and immediately he can feel that strange sensation he now easily recognizes as _Ren_ wash over his mind. It stings, a little, that Ren doesn’t trust him enough to take him at his word. But then the taller man draws back from his thoughts and places a kiss against his temple, muttering, “Sorry,” before he draws back physically as well.

Hux makes an undignified noise of protest, taking half a step after him to get one last proper kiss. He’s being absurd and he knows it. Ren will be gone for only half a day, but he doesn’t want the air between them to be bad.

There’s a smile stealing its way back onto Ren’s features and he takes Hux’s hand in his, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he presses his lips to pale knuckles and Hux blushes hotly.

“You’re ridiculous,” he scolds and pulls his hand back quickly.

“You too,” Ren answers solemnly and has the audacity to wink before he finally gets on his speeder bike and drives off without more than one quick glance back. Hux wonders if it’s because he would never get going otherwise and rubs his thumb over his knuckles, looking after him as he shakes his head. Life has taught him better than to be hopeful about the future.

*

He does spend a good part of the day brooding over how to proceed from here onwards. Ren still reacted with absolute refusal to the mere idea of joining the First Order with Hux, even when Hux explained to him the many ways it would be the best solution. They couldn’t stay here, hidden away from civilization, forever.

“And why not? I’ve been doing it for years. People don’t come here looking for trouble,” Ren grumbled into Hux’s chest as they lay tangled on the bed yesterday afternoon, both refusing to get up and let go of the other. Suddenly he chuckled, making Hux look down at him with a frown. “Except for you, of course.”

“I wasn’t looking for-“ Hux halted, reconsidered that searching for Ren could very well be substituted for trouble and huffed, giving that point up as lost. Ren nipped at his collarbone in retribution, clearly having caught that thought. Hux mildly shoved him, but didn’t move out of reach.

“Be that as it may, the situation is not the same anymore. Even if I agreed to abandon the Order – and I won’t – they know I’m here and they know there is something else powerful here. If I don’t contact them soon, they will come looking.”

Ren didn’t respond anything to that, instead pushing himself up on his elbows to look down at Hux, expression unreadable. “Then we’ll leave. I’ve got a ship, not far from the house. We can go somewhere else; somewhere no one will come looking for us.”

Hux sighed, shaking his head even as long fingers began softly running through his hair, pushing it back. He could understand what it meant for Ren to even offer it; he had seen and physically experienced the relief the other man had felt when he finally had been able to stop running; when he’d finally found a place he could stay. Still. “I’m not going to run from the organization I have sworn my loyalty to.”

“Well, I’m not joining a side,” Ren huffed, clearly contrite that Hux refused to give in.

“Then we’ve got a problem, don’t we.”

Ren only hummed in agreement, easily letting himself be pulled down by the hands reaching up to cup his face and into a kiss. Needless to say that they hadn’t managed to discuss it in much more detail.

The problem remains for Hux to mull over on his own, wondering if maybe they just stayed here and waited for the Order to finally come and find them, Ren would eventually just give in and come with him. He rankled slightly at Ren’s fierce standpoint of the Order being the equivalent of the _dark side_ , too, though Ren had tried and failed to explain it to him.

“There’s something behind all that military and organization. I don’t think you know about it, maybe because you’re not high up enough in the food chain for it- ow! Not part of the upper echelons, you know what I mean. And that presence is devoid of any light.”

It seems asinine to Hux to classify the world into dark and light, black and white, but Ren had shaken his head in frustration at him, unable to convey his point and eventually just changing topics.

There is nothing for him to do but wait, chip away at Ren’s rigid convictions until either the Order finds them or he finally gives in. Whichever happens first. He can make an educated guess how many weeks he has left before his general finally deems it necessary to send troops to look for him after months of no reports. Of course leaving Ren is also an option, in the end, but he doesn’t want to consider it unless there is absolutely no other way left. Not the least because he is not as certain as he once was on how he’d choose.

He fiddles with the now empty cup in his hands, sparing a look outside to see the sun already setting and he frowns, wonders if Ren should be back by now and has no way to know for sure since he doesn’t know how long it takes to get to the village and back again. The bargaining certainly hadn’t seemed to take a lot of time when he’d observed it, but who knows.

In the end, he goes to bed without the other man returning. _It’s fine_ , he tells himself, _he will come back while I sleep_.

He doesn’t. The next morning, there is still no sign of Ren and now it’s definitely taking too long.

Worry eats away at him until noon, when it suddenly occurs to him that this might not be a coincidence. It’s too early for anyone from the Order to have come to the planet and as Ren pointed out himself, people don’t come to this planet looking for trouble. It’s highly unlikely that Ren has run into anything or anyone that could actually measure up to him – considering a squadron of Stormtroopers and Phasma herself hadn’t been able to.

No. If Ren isn’t coming back, there must be another reason for it.

Inhaling the dusty air outside the house deeply as he glares at the line of trees he can see from here, Hux comes to the realization that unless Ren dumped him to run (he wouldn’t), this is another test. He curses under his breath, hands clenching into fists against his side. Ren must still doubt him, even though he has explained that he will stay put, even though he has seen Hux’s mind and seen the truth of it there, even after… everything.

Angry at the idiot probably hiding not too far from here (possibly even watching him), Hux huffs and returns inside. Let him stew out there and worry if just a little physical distance managed to make him paranoid again, he deserves it. There is enough food left for Hux to get through the week on his own, if he is frugal. There must be limits to Ren’s idiocy, he supposes, so he will have to give up his doubts soon enough if he doesn’t want to risk Hux starving due to his foolishness.

He spends the rest of the day irately reading more of Ren’s stupid mythic holorecords and trying some light exercises to get his leg back in proper working order. The next day is spend much the same. When on the day after that there is still no sign of the Force user, doubt begins to gnaw on his righteous anger.

What if something _has_ happened?

He paces the house, occasionally glancing outside and running every possible scenario through his head. Few of them make much sense. Eventually, he goes to pack his small emergency bag stowed in a corner of the bed room, slipping into the mostly civilian looking clothes he had worn the day he’d spotted Ren in town. It won’t do to run around in Ren’s oversized clothes outside simply because it isn’t practical.

He considers packing up the rest of the food and maybe bottle up some water, but decides to only take part of it in the end. It’s just in case, anyway. Bag mounted to his shoulder, he first makes his way up the small rocky hills to the comnet receiver Ren showed him, sweating profusely when he finally reaches the top. He hasn’t come back since that first time simply because while it was in theory a nice idea to get an update of what his superiors at the First Order were planning, it was equally frustrating to not be part of any of those plans for the moment. He is also not able to send anything from there, so it had been nothing more than a nice distraction.

But now, when the only other means of even hoping to gather any possibly useful intel is miles and miles through a forest on a bad leg, he is more than thankful for the damn thing. He manages to activate it quickly, having fiddled with it enough last time to get it back to just about perfect working order. Ren might have repurposed a lot of tech for his house and speeder bike, but he really only knows what he needs to get things working the way he wants them to. Hux, on the other hand, has studied a number of electronics at the Academy and maintained an interest in the finer workings of everything from Starfighters over Star Destroyers to weapons and communication devices. Tuning the old comnet receiver is easy.

Once he finds the right frequency, he listens to encrypted reports and status updates, getting both more anxious every time the talked about destination is far from his whereabouts and simultaneously relived. The Finalizer isn’t even mentioned in passing, never mind any of her personnel or related missions. Staring at the comnet receiver numbly, Hux wonders how to proceed now.

Suddenly, there’s a loud bang from the direction of the forest.

Hux scrambles out of the cramped metal-encased space, ignoring the twinge of pain shooting up his leg at the hasty movement. Before he even stands upright again, there is another small explosion and this time he can see the smoke rising up from the trees. Not far from the abandoned village below.

Now that he is outside and focuses actively on it, Hux can hear what sounds like blaster fire and yelling and he grits his teeth, throwing his bag down and quickly digging out both of the blasters Ren had thankfully returned to him before he left. “Just in case,” he’d said, doubtfully, like he wasn’t entirely sure Hux even knew how to handle the weapons.

Stuffing the smaller one back into the boot it had once belonged in and flicking the safety of the regular one off before hefting the bag back over his shoulder, he started running towards the noise of what was undoubtedly a battle.

A battle, most likely being fought by one man against many.

He is nowhere near as fast as he would like to be, quickly out of breath and stumbling all too easily on his way down, but he gets to the line of trees without falling; the shouts and sounds of shooting very close now. He can see figures moving around the trees and ducks behind one of the thicker barks to peer around and assess the situation better. It’s not the First Order. It’s the Resistance.

Cursing under his breath he frantically searches for the familiar sight of dramatic black and gray robes, listens for the loud chattering of that terrible speeder bike Ren rides around on. He can’t just start shooting at the soldiers he sees; apart from the risk of accidentally shooting Ren he would also reveal his own position and give up his only advantage against this many enemies.

Suddenly, there’s that feeling of warm liquid trickling through his mind and he knows instantly what it means.  “Where are you?” he whispers urgently, angry at himself that he still has no idea how to send his thoughts so Ren will definitely catch them; he can only hope it works like this.

_I can see you_ , Ren whispers in his mind and Hux shivers at all the unchecked emotion that rolls over him with it for just a moment. There’s anger and urgency, but beneath it is a thick layer of regret and guilt and Hux can’t even guess at what has brought that on.

A rapid round of shots is fired on his left and his gaze whips over as the blaster shots freeze in midair for long seconds before all at once flying back in the direction they had come from. The soldier all but vanishes in the small explosion and Hux is distracted enough that he almost misses the large figure emerging from seemingly nowhere and coming in his direction.

Ren, he thinks, keen relief washing over him at the visual confirmation before he pushes it aside to raise his blaster and fire at the bastard closest to Ren. The man goes down without a sound and he manages four more swift shots that all hit their varying targets before the Resistance fighters figure out his location and open fire in return. There’s so many of them.

He has to duck back behind his tree for a moment, takes a deep breath and then rolls low over the short brown grass to the next as he fires blindly in the enemy’s direction. It works as a distraction in that they lose him for a while because Ren apparently chooses that exact moment to push them back with a massive wave of the Force from his outstretched hands.

There are only a few meters separating them now and before Hux knows it he’s on his feet and meeting Ren in the middle, reaching out for him automatically to start pulling him along, back in the direction of Ren’s house or at least the derelict village for more effective cover. Absently, he registers Ren’s larger hand closing over his wrist in return as they take off running, but there’s no time to look at him; all his concentration is on moving as quick as he can while occasionally firing into the trees behind them. Ren is doing something, too, but he is not sure what, aside from the fact that so far, no one else has come out of the trees.

Miraculously, they make it to the ruins before shots much bigger than any blaster could hope to fire start raining down on them. Hux curses, loudly. This is not just a small scale attack then, it’s a properly equipped ground force with likely even heavier weapons coming.

“What the hell are they doing here?”

“They were looking for me,” Ren supplies next to him and Hux glances over at the flat tone of his voice, only now realizing that he’s wearing the mask and all but covered in dirt and blood. Involuntarily, a shiver runs down his spine. _There the monster is_.

Shaking his head forcibly, he pushes the thought from his mind. “Why would they?”

A humorless laugh as Ren raises his hand and diverts a large blue energy bolt. “That’s a long story I’m not in the mood to tell. The point is, they found me and attacked on sight.”

Dimly, Hux recalls the original reason Captain Phasma and her men had been sent here what now seems an eternity ago. “There were rumors of the Resistance taking an interest in this place. We couldn’t figure out why, at the time.” He shoots, misses.

“I tried to defeat them away from here, but there’s just too many and some of them were already making their way into the woods…”

With a groan, Ren falls back against the wall that’s doubling as their shield, making Hux glance over at him sharply. Some of that blood is Ren’s own, he realizes with a start, gritting his teeth. There’s a fine crack running down the side of the mask as well and Hux doesn’t even want to dwell on how that got there. They have to get out of here, and quickly, before the heavier artilleries arrive, but his ship is docked close to the village with who knows how many Resistance fighters between them.

“I have a ship,” Ren reminds him almost calmly in the mayhem surrounding them. “It’s hidden between the wrecks in the graveyard.”

Hux wants to kiss him and punch him equally, decides to do both later. There are more urgent problems at hand. Thankfully, navigating their way through the derelict houses is easier than running through level terrain, especially with how they seem to pull each other along. He still isn’t as fast as he would like to be, but the fact that Ren is barely faster is saying something about the condition he’s in. Hux desperately hopes he’s just exhausted and not wounded too badly.

Without warning, a duo of Resistance fighters emerges from behind one of the houses ahead and while Hux is only just processing them, Ren is pushing him physically behind his body and pulling something from his belt in one fluid motion. There’s a humming sound and suddenly a sword of fire appears to come to life in Ren’s hand out of nowhere as he whirls forward and slashes through the fighters like they’re nothing but practice targets.

_That must be a lightsaber_ , is Hux’s first thought, followed by a breathless, _he’s magnificent_.

But it’s only a brief moment of distraction as from the corner of his eye, he spots movement coming towards Ren from behind another house and he raises his blaster and shoots with deadly precision before Ren has finished turning around.

Panting, they stare at each other for a split second, Hux’s wide eyes meeting the dimly gleaming metal of Ren’s mask, before reality sets back in with more noise coming from behind them and then they’re running again, dodging fire and returning it when possible until finally, they reach Ren’s ship. The hatch is already lowering itself and they make it inside before it finishes. It clicks into place once with a loud clank and then slowly starts closing again.

Ren runs towards the console without a word as Hux sags back against the cold metal wall next to the hatch. His lungs are on fire and now that he’s come to a halt, his leg is pulsing and twitching violently beneath him. When he glances down he can see blood trickling down the side of it, not entirely sure if something has reopened or he was grazed by a blaster shot and didn’t even notice.

“What are the coordinates to your ship?”

For one brief moment of stupidity, Hux thinks he means the ship back at the town; frowning and letting his head fall back as he eventually manages to pant out the coordinates to the Finalizer. For the first time in his life he’s relieved that they never make actual use of the fleet’s most majestic ship and let her remain almost static in the same place, acting more as a base than the Star Destroyer she is.

He only opens his eyes when a gloved hand cups his cheek, smiling tiredly when he is met with Ren’s own brown ones instead of the mask now in his other hand.

“I’m glad you found me,” Ren murmurs and Hux wonders if he means today or something else altogether. He doesn’t get a chance to think about it much, as Ren moves in to kiss him, sloppy in his desperation in a way he hasn’t been since their first few kisses over the back of his couch.

Hux can dimly hear the sound of the ship’s engine roaring to life, of dull thuds of blaster fire raining against the ship’s hull. Neither seems to matter much when he has Ren here with him, safe and entirely his; no one will be able to separate them now, on the way to join the First Order; together. They will change the entire galaxy.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” Hux breathes against Ren’s lips as he is gently pushed back by a large hand on his chest. When he takes him in he is surprised by the bitter smile adorning Ren’s face and cold dread flickers through him even before that hand pushes him to the side with something more than physical strength and he is flung violently to the other side of the small ship.

The breath is knocked out of him even though he lands just shy of the control panel and far too softly to be natural, but he scrambles to his feet as quickly as he can.

It’s still too late.

Ren is gone and the ramp closing much quicker this time, obviously forced shut by more than its mechanism as the ship ascends rapidly from the ground. He doesn’t need to check the coordinates to know that they’re locked, that he won’t be able to change the course and land again.

Logic doesn’t keep Hux from storming to the viewport to stare outside in terrible disbelief. Ren is right there, yet he can do nothing but watch as the figure in the black and gray robes whirls through rows of Resistance fighters with his blood red lightsaber, truly letting loose his power on them. His style is graceful but heavy and reckless and Hux starts to hammer against the transparisteel even though he knows it will do nothing. He is damned to watch Ren fight on his own, refusing even now to choose a side; even if it means leaving Hux and possibly dying in a hail of blaster fire. He hears himself furiously yelling that he will come back, wide eyes staring at the figure getting smaller with every syllable that leaves his mouth. His hands are starting to hurt.

Maybe he only imagines the curl of tired fondness and an apology brushing his mind in answer to his rage.

*

Hux keeps his promise. It takes a small eternity until he finally reaches the Finalizer, but at least it gives him the time to collect himself and smooth the emotion from his face and the wrinkles and dirt from the spare civilian clothes he changed into, before he has to step out of the small scavenged ship and before his superiors to explain himself.

Even with the organized precision of the Order and his own ruthless efficiency, it takes over a day to get back to the planet’s surface with enough armed forces behind him to bring the entire planet under his control if need be.

But there’s no one left to fight. When they get to the graveyard it is empty except for the carcasses of the old ships, only blaster marks in the ground and occasional dried blood in the earth speak of the fierce battle that happened here.

A Lieutenant informs him that the entire area is clear and Hux only nods, wordless, as he makes his way down the familiar path to Ren’s house, the muscles of his face twitching with all the emotions he’s not allowing himself to show. Only to come to a halt a good distance away from it, staring at the place it used to be. Now, there is little difference between it and the surrounding derelict houses; only that the stones in front of him are still smoking softly, turned black from a fire that destroyed the entirety of it so rigorously that there is no doubt that it was done on purpose. He can see the basic layout from the outside, can see where the remains of Ren’s shelves are destroyed but empty, like someone cleaned them out before they set the fire. Like it was the owner himself who destroyed the only place Hux would know to find him.

Fists clenched so tight his nails might have drawn blood if he wasn’t wearing gloves, Hux turns from the burned out shell of the house and starts walking back towards his troops without sparing another glance backwards. He has a mission to plan and needs to go about it as quickly and efficiently as he can.

He will find Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, let me just say, I had a blast writing and posting this and a huge, huge thank you to everyone who read this fic all the way to the end and left comments and kudos on the way. You guys are the best. ♥
> 
> Now, I do have plans to write more in this AU. I don't know how long it will take me to write though. :x In the meantime, if anyone wants to say hi and/or flail about this ship, you can find me on tumblr here: shitsuren-marshmallows.tumblr.com


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